


Necktie

by chzo_mythos



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Tie Kink, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 22:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chzo_mythos/pseuds/chzo_mythos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous on tumblr asked for 'johnlock, ties'. it isn't smut, just the prequel to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necktie

While it’s true John doesn’t notice things the way Sherlock does, after living with him for so long, he begins to pick up on a few things. When Sherlock hasn’t eaten or slept for days, it doesn’t mean you can coo at him like a child (John learned this the hard way. He’d meant it as a joke, saying ‘aw, poor wittle Sherlock has tuckered himself out’, and he’d ended up with a cadaver in his bed the next day). When Sherlock takes extraordinarily long showers, long past when the hot water runs out, John knows to make him a cuppa and put on his warmest, softest jumper, because Sherlock will be in one of his moods and demand they cuddle together on the sofa (he’ll never say it like that, but it’s become obvious to John by the sort of hollow look in his eyes that Sherlock needs to simply be held for a while). And, when Sherlock looks at him in _that_ way, when he looks like he wants to eat John alive, it’s because he’s wearing a tie.

Okay, granted, he’s gotten that look other times, sure. Sometimes when he’s playing his ‘conductor of light’ role, or sometimes when he’s examining a body and helps Sherlock contradict the forensics team, Sherlock will pull John away to a (semi) secluded place, snog him silly, and give him this look. It could be described as ‘smoldering’, but that sounds a bit too much like a bloody romance novel for John to use.

And he gets these looks every now and then at home, too, because as much as Sherlock would like to argue otherwise, he does need sex. But a pattern forms, and it takes John longer than he’d like to admit to realize it, but when he does, he’s absolutely shocked.

Sherlock will always, _always,_ give John that look when he’s wearing a tie. He’s not one hundred percent certain, but he knows that if he suddenly wears ties more often, Sherlock will be suspicious. So, he does the only thing he thinks will work.

On Tuesday morning, John comes down in to the sitting room in only his briefs and a tie. Silk, black with dark blue diagonal stripes. It’s tied in a loose, fat knot around his neck, as if he slept in it.

He doesn’t make a show of it, doesn’t point it out to Sherlock (who glances up from his microscope when he enters the kitchen anyway), just acts like he isn’t wearing it, going to make some toast and pouring himself a cup of coffee Sherlock brewed.

That isn’t to say he isn’t panicking inside his head, because he totally is. He’s staring at the toaster intently, and his mind is racing. Oh God, what if he was wrong? Sherlock is never going to let him live this down. He could lie but what’s the point? Sherlock will always know.

He hears the sound of the legs of the chair scraping against the tile floor and John clenches his eyes shut. Shit, he’s such a bloody idiot.

A pair of long, pale arms wrap around his chest and Sherlock’s chin rests atop his head. The detective’s fingers play with the tie absently.

“Very good, John” Sherlock assures him, tilting his neck down so he can murmur in to John’s hair, placing his lips chastely against the top of his head.

John doesn’t have time to absorb the fact that he was _right,_ before Sherlock is grabbing at his shoulders and spinning him around. He gets a brief glance that confirms that, yes, Sherlock is looking at him _like that_ , and then he’s being pulled forward by the damn tie around his neck, and Sherlock’s lips are crashing against his. This kiss is fluid, languid, as opposed to Sherlock’s normal frantic, stolen kisses in the hallways of the Yard or an alleyway in Camden, but there’s just as much passion in it, and when they pull back for air, John legitimately feels breathless.  
  
“Bedroom” Sherlock says simply on exhale, and he doesn’t really give John the choice, keeping hold of his tie and leading him up the stairs.

It’s safe to say that John will need to buy more ties.


End file.
